Gaelras, A Tales of Symphonia Story
by kursed kitten
Summary: Before Lloyd Irving, there was the woman that gave him her personality, fiery and stubborn, a notsogentle idealist.  And there was the man who watched her from her first breath, and fell in love with her.  Two people united for a better world.  Kranna
1. The Child Who Love the Sunset

**Hello to everyone out there! My first ToS fanfic, feel free review with anything, but be warned that all will be replied to in the next chapter, so if you flame, I will have Genis flame you back. . **

**Gaelras, a Tales of Symphonia Fanfic**

**Summary: Before Lloyd Irving, there was the woman that gave him her personality- fiery and stubborn, a not-so-gentle idealist. And there was the man who watched her from her first breath, and fell in love with her. They were two people united for a better world- Kratos and Anna.**

**Chapter One: The Child Who Loved the Sunset**

The forge represented life: its fires created and destroyed, repaired and enhanced. For many, the forge was merely a way to procure funds, to make more gald. For Eric Garris, it was a way of life. His only way, as it happened.

He came from a long line of successful swordsmiths in his hometown of Luin. Successful, because there had always been a need for weapons for soldiers resisting the Desians. But now, no one dared even look a Desian in the eye. No one in Luin needed weapons anymore.

His business falling quickly into bankruptcy, Eric relied on his wife's tailoring for most of the couple's needs. And with just the two of them, it worked.

Their daughter came into the world on July 14, kicking and screaming as if her life depended on it. Lira wanted to name her after her deceased grandmother, a loving and quiet woman called Anna.

This child was in no way quiet.

However, as his fingers were still numb from his wife's grip and he had no intention of igniting more of her wrath, Eric complied.

Anna Garris was a curious baby, happy and loud and stubborn as a mule. It came as no surprise that the first word out of her tiny mouth consisted of a string of "no's" as she tried to crawl her way out of the evil bathtub.

Her mother became increasingly frustrated with the constant screaming and crying, finally sending baby Anna off with her father to his work at the forge.

The curious child wandered all over the room, Eric constantly looking over his shoulder at her as she took in her father's workshop.

His work table was covered in metal shards, tools, leather for scabbards…

Above it, each of the previous Garris' greatest forges hung in succession from the wall. Seven generations of sword makers, seven precious swords.

Harbinger, Saerius, Mardred, Courios, Eloren, her great-grandfather's Abrigal, and her grandfather's Degarver.

Degarver was the only sword on the wall without a scabbard, and the fires Eric devoted his attention to made the steel broadsword glow the deep color of sunset over Lake Sinoa.

Anna wanted to touch the sunset.

She was too short to climb onto the work table, and being a clever two year old, she realized that.

"Dadda!" her sweet little voice called.

The blond man set down his anvil and turned to face her as he replied, "What is it, Anna-banana?"

She giggled at the frequently used nickname and pointed to the table.

"You're probably right! I could see you better from there, couldn't I? We don't want you running into something dangerous, hmm?" Eric wiped his hands off on his tunic, watching Anna's big green eyes light up in excitement.

Her emotions were always so far on each end of the spectrum- happiness became ecstasy, sadness to despair, anger to loathing. There were none in between.

Anna felt her daddy's strong arms around her, lifting her to his chest, legs swinging excitedly.

She gripped his shirt in her tiny hands.

He set her on the table and kissed her forehead.

Turning back to his work, Anna began carefully making her way over to the edge of the oak table, avoiding anything that would alert her daddy to her little plan. Degarver hung just a few inches from the table, and the toddler reached out a hand to grab it, her other hand gripping the wood of the table.

Eric heard a loud thunk and the clatter of metal.

Whipping around, he took in the sight of his only child now on the floor, his father's greatest forge clutched in her death grip. She seemed surprised to have fallen off the work table, eyes quickly gathering moisture.

Other than a scraped knee and a tiny cut on her arm, Anna was fine. Her daddy held her, trying to pry the sunset away from her, but she almost died trying to get it! There was no way she would relinquish her prize!

Funny, the sunset wasn't very orange or red anymore. It had turned a metal grey, and the child could see her reflection in it. It wasn't a real sunset!

Eric heard his daughter sniffle and wondered if he'd missed an injury. But Anna was staring at the sword in her grasp, mumbling, "no sunswet" over and over.

"Anna?" he questioned. The toddler looked up, tears sliding down her round face. "Why were you trying to get Degarver?"

She didn't know what a Degarver was, but she didn't care. Her sunset was gone!

"No sunswet! No sunswet!" she cried.

Eric's brow furrowed. Sunswet? Maybe…

He turned so the fire was no longer blocked by his form, and watched as the flames were reflected off the shining metal of his father's sword. Well, now it made sense.

He used to do the same thing as a young boy, watching the colors gleam on the swords above the table as his father worked.

"Sunswet! Sunswet!" Anna yelled, clapping her hands. She almost cut herself on the blade again, so her daddy took it away. "No! Want sunswet!"

Eric shook his head. The forge was definitely not a safe place for an over curious toddler. But she didn't want to be anywhere near a sewing needle either…

Lira was livid that he'd let her get hurt, and forbade her from entering the forge again. But two days later, as her mother sewed lacy fabrics on an apron, Anna snuck off to the forge.

As she busied herself with staring at the different assortments of weaponry, Lira and Eric slowly realized that Anna no longer screamed for attention or bothered her mother with millions of questions. She was content to be in the forge with her father.

The Garris family was surviving, even without money coming in from the forge. They thought they would be able to save a little from Lira's popular clothing, until Altair was born.

He was the exact opposite of Anna: quiet, dependent, docile, accepting. He was four years younger than his sister, born December seventh, barely two when Anna received twin wooden swords for her sixth birthday.

A mercenary visited Luin the month before she turned six, looking for information about a target- some monster destroying bean crops all over the continent. After the monster met its end, the innkeeper hired him to protect his workers as they made a delivery to Asgard, because of some rumors that the Desians were accosting travelers.

The day they were to return from Asgard, Anna was playing with some metals outside near her house and Altair was sitting on his mother's lap inside as she sewed.

She spotted the two workers and the mercenary sprinting over the bridge, several Desian soldiers at their heels.

The mercenary fought them off, guarding their attacks with what she recognized as a steel sword. He seemed to have the upper hand, until another group of soldiers rushed over. Kicking one in the stomach, the man grabbed the soldier's Knight's Saber and used both his steel sword and the saber to block and parry, one weapon in each hand.

Anna was enraptured by his skills with twin swords, her emerald eyes taking in every stroke. Half hidden by her home, she did not expect to be seen.

But suddenly and swiftly, the reddish brown eyes of the mercenary connected with hers and he paused for barely half a second.

His opponent followed his gaze, and he grinned wickedly, a smile that brought fear into Anna's heart. He disappeared from the battle unnoticed, reappearing behind the five year old girl.

As he grabbed her by the collar of her little brown dress, Anna screamed, clawing and kicking at him.

Her parents came running, Altair in Lira's arms, but it was too late.

The mercenary stopped his attack, as did the other soldiers.

Still smirking, the soldier yelled, "She mean somthin' to ya, mercenary? Why don' cha come git 'er, then?"

The next moments flew by so quickly that Eric could never truly recall what exactly transpired. One moment his daughter was being used as bait, and the next, every one of those soldiers lay dead in the streets of Luin.

And Anna was safe, in the arms of that mercenary. She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, whimpering softly, and he held her tightly in return.

He returned her to her parents, and Eric offered him dinner with them as thanks for saving his daughter. The man accepted and left to receive his payment for protecting the innkeeper's workers.

When he returned that evening, Anna ran up and hugged him, obviously catching the stoic man by surprise. Her brother gurgled happily from his place at the table.

As she tired, he escorted her to her bedroom upon request.

Eric and Lira whispered over how well their daughter had taken to the mercenary and fed Altair, miniscule smiles crossing their lips. Such an emotionless man, having a small girl growing fond of him…

In Anna's room, the hyper child had no intention of sleeping, opting to crawl all over him instead. It took a while for her to realize that his auburn spikes may look like good handholds, but grabbing them hurt her new friend.

Finally calming her, he tucked her in and sang to her a lullaby of his homeland, a melody she would never forget. She wrapped her hand around two of his fingers as her eyelids drooped shut, her breathing becoming even and slow.

The mercenary thanked Eric and Lira, and he left town that night.

When asked what she would like for her sixth birthday, Anna vehemently requested twin swords. Her fathers spent the rest of the month honing them out of wood.

Anna and Altair often played outside in the summer months, their mother watching from the porch. Anna practiced her sword strokes on a tree that lost much of its bark to her swings, while Altair would play in the grass nearby.

Striking particularly hard, one sword bent and ricocheted off the tree, out of her hand, an into Altair's forehead. That cut left a short scar on the boy's left temple.

For the next three years until Anna turned eight, her brother four, Lira attempted to convince her to become a seamstress like her mother.

The child finally locked herself in the forge for almost two days. That place was more home than her bedroom. And no matter how many times her mother told her the forge was too dangerous, Anna refused to believe that hot iron was more dangerous than a sewing needle. Those little pins hurt!

Henceforth, Anna became an apprentice to her father. And, growing up around the trade, she was quite good at it.

She was constantly covered in ash and soot, her long, thick locks always pulled back in a braid. As dresses were not well adept to the agility and flexibility needed in battle, the girl refused to wear them, preferring instead the breeches normally worn by men.

Her mother was not happy, but she could not be persuaded to even wear a skirt.

**A/N: Gaelras refers to a sword bestowed on great warriors by the god of war, Mars. I'm not sure of its true name, but I like mine. Pronounced Gale- (though more like the first syllable in the word Gaelic .) –ros (like rosin). Other swords are, for the most part, pretty straightforward. Please read and review and I'll give you Kvar's head on a plate! (maybe…I kind of want him as a trophy…along with Forcystus) **


	2. Degarver, the Seventh Great Forge

**A/N: Well, it's only been a day, so I can't really complain, but I had hoped for a little better reaction to this. Ah, well, such is life. I'm not one to demand a ransom of reviews in order to release chapters.**

**Poet Bucky: You cannot possibly imagine how much I appreciated that! It's nice to have support for a piece of work. I wanted to know more about Anna too, which is how this little thing came about…**

**Lastly, I'm thinking about writing some oneshots to accompany this- mostly on the events I tend to be vague on. Let me know if you think this is good idea! (no, it is not a plot to con you into reviewing. Or is it?)**

**Gaelras, A Tales of Symphonia Story**

**Chapter Two: Degarver, the Seventh Great Forge**

Two years after beginning her sword forging, Anna accompanied her father on her first delivery. They went to Asgard, the 10 year old gaining experience as she and her dad fought off monsters and bandits. Her wooden blades and his buster sword slew everything in their path.

Altair turned six that December, and, like his older sister, he received his first weapon, a small buster sword wrapped in cloth. He sparred often with his sister, though she was always better then him.

A man entered town, escorting a group of clergymen from Palmacosta who wished to renovate the failing Luin Chapel.

The siblings noticed him observing them as they sparred, Anna's agility and grace against Altair's power and heavy swings. She was going easy on him, but that was to be expected. Yet Altair was getting better with his choice of a weapon, and it was thought that he might someday match his sister in skill.

The man approached as the pair took a short, well deserved break, resting against a huge oak tree at the top of a hill. Behind them, Lake Sinoa winked at them with the setting sun at her back, and in front lay Luin, the quiet little village in its own quiet world.

He motioned for Altair to stand, and when his sister nodded approvingly, the six year old complied, raising his sword.

The child rushed at the man, his every stroke parried or blocked as the man grunted out pointers. By the end, Altair collapsed by the tree, exhausted.

This time, the auburn haired man motioned to Anna, who stood to face his challenge, as was her nature. She threw her strongest attacks at him, and was blocked every time like her younger brother.

Altair could see her composure falling as she became exceedingly frustrated, until she blindly rushed at him-

He caught both her wrists, abandoning his sword, forcing her to drop hers, and murmured, "Do not let your emotions blind you. You are too rash, too passionate, for one so young."

He was hurting her wrists, but she was struggling to get out of his grasp. The man left, caressing her sore wrists in apology once before retrieving his longsword and wandering into town.

He stayed at the inn for three more days, coming out only to train Anna and Altair. The siblings improved more drastically in that time under his instruction than they ever could have alone.

Anna swore she'd seen his reddish tinted eyes before, but she couldn't remember from where.

The month after Altair turned eleven, the family was in so much debt that they were almost thrown into the streets during the January snows. Fortunately, the landlord was a patient, kind man, and he allowed them a month to scrape up the gald for the loan they owed payment to.

Eric was the only Garris that had not forged a great sword. He had never been the most accomplished of his family, and now they were on the brink of starvation.

For the first time in the Garris family history, the seven greatest forges were put out for sale.

Harbinger and Courios sold first, allowing the family to make the overdue payment. But January's payment would be due in less than a week…

Anna hated that her family's swords had to be sold. She tried hiding them, making her own swords as replacements, but it was a fact that they needed the money, and those swords would procure it.

A cloaked man entered the shop, his eyes stripping each sword raw.

His cloak and boots were made from the finest leather money could buy, and it was obvious that none of Eric's common forges or Anna's beginning products would be worth anything to him.

Anna shed bitter tears as the man picked her grandfather's sword, Degarver, her favorite. It was to be delivered to him in Palmacosta the following week, and the man's starting price was well over the next loan payment.

Eric accepted, and the two men parted ways. The father brought Degarver into the forge, where Anna was waiting.

He sighed sadly, "He's being more than generous. We don't have any other choice right now, Anna-Banana."

She grimaced at the use of the nickname. Fifteen year olds did not have nicknames that involved fruit.

"But daddy, it's Degarver, Grandpa's sword. How could you sell any of them? There has to be another way!" She stomped her foot angrily, tears leaving stained tracks down her soot covered face.

"There isn't, Banana. I'd rather have a home than an old sword, any day."

In spite of Lira's complaints, the ever calm Altair joined them on the delivery to Palmacosta, his first ever. He was a year older than Anna had been on her first trip, now eleven years old.

The trip went smoothly, with few monsters interfering along the path.

They procured a room at the inn, and followed the cloaked man's directions to one of the apartments overlooking the bay. There, the man paid them and took Degarver, all the while watching Anna's crestfallen face.

The night was still, the moon casting its ray of light over the water and onto the street, where a stealthy figure in breeches crept up to the cloaked man's apartment. She had no idea how he managed to hear her silent approach, but that was of no matter. Anna had an alternative to losing her grandfather's sword.

She took a deep breath, looked into his reddish brown eyes, and pleaded, "Please, I beg of you sir, take any other sword but Degarver. That sword means so much to my father! We have others just as good - Mardred, Saerius, Eloren, Agrigal – all the greatest swords of their time. Please!"

He regarded her for a long moment, processing her words. "And where are these weapons?" he asked, finally.

Her cheeks becoming slightly flushed, the teen stuttered, "I-well, they're at home in Luin. I'm sure we could bring them in just a few days-"

"No good. I depart from Palmacosta tomorrow."

"Then, we could deliver it to a different address. Please, I'll do anything!"

Staring at her again, the man questioned her slowly, deliberately, "You are an apprentice to your father, correct?"

Anna nodded, "I've been making swords for seven years, sir, since the age of eight."

"Do you have any materials with you?"

"Some. We always carry them in case a delivery needs repairs." 

The man stepped out into the dimly lit hall, closing the apartment door behind him. "Meet me outside the forges at the docks. Bring your supplies."

"We're breaking into a forge?!" Anna exclaimed, her green eyes widening.

He nodded once curtly. "Yes. You are going to forge me a sword, Ms. Garris."

She snuck back into their room at the inn without alerting her father. But Altair was still awake.

"Anna, what are you doing?" he asked groggily, blinking owlishly.

After grabbing her things, she gave the boy a good, hard noogie and he squirmed, whining piteously.

"Shh. Don't worry about it. Go back to sleep." She whispered, and Anna tiptoed to the door, closing it softly behind her.

Consider that the forges set up on the docks were mostly in the open, it wasn't difficult for the pair to use one.

Anna set to work, bringing the fire up to a temperature hot enough to shape the metal and forming the blade with the best steel she had. Occasionally, the cloaked man would interject with a gentle correction, or he would move her hands to a better position.

Once the blade was formed, he showed her how to etch beautiful, curvaceous symbols along the blade, eventually forming a pattern similar to ivy with them. The man told her which symbols represented protection, power, accuracy, agility, or stamina, and that simply having the sword in hand would activate its power.

The sun was just beginning to rise over the sea when they completed the sword. He moved a hand over it, and each symbol seemed to glow under his touch.

"What will you call it?" he questioned, eyes never leaving the gleaming blade.

"It's yours. You can name it whatever you wish." She responded.

His eyes moved languidly to hers, boring into her soul, "I would like you to name it, just as your ancestors did for their greatest swords."

Her greatest forge? At fifteen? Wait…like she'd never make a better one? Anna moved toward him, "You think this is the best I will ever do? That I'm not capable of anything greater?!" she was being defensive, and she knew it.

The man shook his head, muttering, "I meant that as a compliment."

Anna considered him and calmed a little. She saw the cloaked man start just a bit as she spoke, "I'll call it Gaelras."

"What?" he seemed genuinely surprised, but it was difficult to tell with his stoic face.

"Gaelras. There's a legend in Luin that the Gaelras was the god of war, who descended during the Kharlan War to stop it. He was a hero."

"I know." He murmured, eyes downcast. "I was not aware that people still knew that name. Luin, shadowed by the Tower of Mana, the home of Aska and Luna, summon spirits of light…"

"Mhmm. The pastor says that Gaelras left a book of healing arts at the tower, with power capable of resurrecting the dead." The teen yawned; she rarely pulled all-nighters. She liked her sleep too much.

"Not quite. It details how to save the catatonic, not the dead. Gaelras was the name of the Lord Boltzman, a noblemen of Luin at the time. He wrote the book, leaving it as an offering to Luna and Aska during the Kharlan war. This 'god of war' you refer to was actually nothing more than a man and his companions who wished to end the war. He was accidentally mistaken for the nobleman after Boltzman died attempting to make a pact with Aska and Luna… Ms. Garris, are you listening?"

Anna had fallen asleep, head resting against the brick of the forge. The man took off his cloak, revealing deep purple clothes perfect for the work of a mercenary. Placing it over her body to keep out the cool morning sea air, he set Gaelras and Degarver at her side.

He tucked a rather large pouch of gald in her relaxed hand, allowing his fingertips to stroke hers for a moment. And then he gently brushed a few stray strands of brown hair that had come loose from her braid behind her ears, finally rubbing some of the soot from her rosy cheeks.

As he walked out into the sunlight, Anna began to open her eyes, barely noticing what must have been a dream. Because there was no way that any human man had translucent blue wings coming out of his back, flapping subconsciously and sending glittering mana onto the docks. And it had to be a dream, because normal human men could not disappear into thin air.

Once fully awake hours later, it took her a moment to realize that the man had left both Degarver and Gaelras, along with a sizeable sum of gald. She sprinted back to the inn, shoving the door open and startling her family.

"Where have you been?" Eric cried.

It was almost noon. No wonder she was hungry. She was lucky that the owner of the forge she commandeered didn't work on Sundays.

Altair noticed Degarver and the money in her grasp, "You got it back! And look at all that gald!"

"Yep!" the girl grinned.

Eric's eyes widened in panic, "You stole it?"

"No! He gave it back, as long as I made him a replacement. He helped me make Gaelras." She held up the shining longsword, and her father admired it.

"This…this is…brilliant! The best forge I've ever seen." The swordsmith breathed as his daughter's cheeks burned with his praise.

After returning home, Anna paired Gaelras with a simple saber, and her father tucked her wooden swords away in a safe place

The people of Luin heard quickly that Anna had forged a sword worthy of the family's legacy before her father, but Eric held little resentment. He was proud of the outspoken woman Anna was turning into.

**A/N: In an attempt to be short and sweet, here it is: Please review!**


	3. Children of the Resistance

A/N: **I'm a moron. I just realized that I never did a disclaimer…so please don't sue! I didn't come up with the game! I don't have the computer skills for that…I just know how to use the internet and word…**

**Anyway, I thought I'd take this time (not that anyone actually reads author's notes) to let my devoted (or so I hope) readers know that I love you all! I was surprised by the responses I got when I asked for more reviews…**

**Well, review if you can, it's just nice to reply to the reviews!**

**Let's see…**

**ooAngles of Yuan and Kratos...: I'm not totally sure about Anna's last name, I just figured that Dirk's might've been Irving instead of Anna's. Ah, well. I spent almost two hours thinking of the name Garris and I'm not changing it now! Thanks for the heads up, though!**

**Poet Bucky: You're right; I should give people more time to review. One day is hardly worth getting worked up over. I wonder how long it normally takes authors to gets hundreds of reviews? I'll look for your story, but I suck at getting search engines to work (technology hates me). Anna will be an amazing swordsmith! I declare it! The point I'm trying to make with her life is that she touched a lot of people, and that in turn affects the story with Lloyd throughout Asgard and Luin. I'll get into it later. You're right about him wanting her to make herself a sword; I'm glad you understood it. But who ever said it was Kratos? It mostly likely is. I haven't decided yet. There's more to the sword than meets the eye, however. Thanks for the advice about pacing my updates! **

**Crystalwolfberri: Love your sn. It's cute! Anyway, you're right, it is a little odd that they've known each other for so long (well, Kratos at least). I thought, since he's over 4000 years old, that he had probably seen her a few times on his travels. After all, who wants to stay cooped up on Derris Kharlan for all that time?**

**Eyes of the infinite galaxy: wow…trippy sn. I like it. Please don't worry about the delayed review; it really wasn't at all! I'm much too demanding of readers, but I'm trying to work on that. Don't mind my idiocy. Thanks for giving me a burst of energy with the 'jealousy' thing! Oh, about Anna's personality- I figured it would take a stubborn woman like her to tame a 4000 year old angel who is much too used to getting his own way.**

**Fehize: Kratos always helps! …Even if he doesn't mean to. Oh, well, he tries. He flunked his 'human interaction' classes. Here is the next update! Enjoy!**

**Wow…that was long…maybe my insanely detailed replies will encourage more reviews? . Please?**

Luin's sole inn barely ever saw guests, and when it did, the travelers were normally injured or extremely tired. Few people wanted to stay in a town well known for supporting the Desians.

Anna didn't like to think that they helped those evil creatures. Her village used to be renowned for resisting oppression, even fighting for freedom when necessary. But ever since the massacre over twenty years ago, the resistance stopped.

The Desian Cardinals sent a large, concentrated force at the lake town, laying siege to it for over a month before invading. Half starved, the people fought valiantly but were over powered. As part of the surrender, the fighters' wives, children, and families were slaughtered in the town square. The people left lost their determination for a free world, and instead yielded under all further commands of the Desians.

Anna hated that her hometown was full of spineless cowards. And she wasn't the only teenager with that opinion. In fact, most of the youth in Luin saw her as a new leader of the resistance. Their parents did not agree.

The adults saw Anna's attempts to unite the city as a plot to usurp the current peacetime. Eric and Lira were often told how they should silence her ranting. And within the Garris household, Eric and Altair joined with Anna while Lira feared for their lives if the Desians ever caught wind of her ideas.

Luin's innkeeper had one son, a shy boy eternally smitten with the outgoing and loving personality of the swordsmith's daughter. He aided her cause in any way he could, including using the vacant inn as a convenient headquarters for the new resistance.

The children of Luin had always gathered there for some socializing before bed, so their parents never became suspicious of the events that transpired. And, being children, they still liked to socialize and enjoy each other's company, with the addition of an update on the current locations of Desian armies and their horrible deeds.

As usual, Anna and her brother crept out of their house just after dinner, heeding their father's word, "You can go as long as you're careful and your mother doesn't see you."

They met a large crowd of children, ranging from age five to nineteen, on the first floor of the inn. Specifically, the innkeeper's son, Gage Yaxley, led them to the second floor, where the group settled into their normal positions.

The merchant's son and his girlfriend shared an embrace in a corner, his little sister scooting as far from the embarrassing scene as she could, and she ended up lying on the stairs, her legs sprawled over several steps.

Gage leaned against the wall, his cousin (visiting from Asgard) Julia hugging her knees by his side. A few of the older children also sat against the wall, shifting lightly on the hardwood floor beneath them.

Altair mimicked their positions, but against the railing, where he had to tilt his head to the side at an awkward position in order to see his sister.

The younger children sat cross-legged in a semi circle around their ringleader, playing with the dirt in the cracks of the floorboards.

Anna Garris, being the most daring and most outspoken, perched on the railing. Her callused fingers tapped the wood on her sides, tapping out a rhythm her brother often heard her humming as she worked on weapons.

The children had dumped their weapons in the only unoccupied corner by the stairs, braced against the wall and a door. All variations of weaponry had piled there, from swords to bows to wooden poles to Frisbees. A top was even thrown on top of the pile, its bright colors strongly contrasting the gray metal of the swords.

Chattering away, few noticed that the heir to the building in which they were seated was attempting to get their attention in his quiet, subdued, and therefore often unnoticed, way. Anna had to yell at them all before the children were finally silenced, their attention turned to her. She tactfully motioned for Gage to begin the preceedings.

The nineteen year old boy crossed his arms, his blond hair effectively hiding his light blue eyes from view. He spoke calmly as he always did, never making eye contact with any of the youths before him, "Um, for starters, you all know the merchant caravan was supposed to pass through today with this month's supplies,"

Several older teens murmured gravely about the rumors that their supplies had been stolen by Desians, and Anna had to clear her throat to silence them again.

"Well, the priests from Palmacosta said their governor-general took them in light of the recent fish shortages,"

"That's bullsh-" Altair covered his sister's mouth before her shout woke the innkeeper.

"I know," Gage continued, "we don't need our own people stealing from us along with the Desians. Their excuse was that a little town like us didn't need such a large shipment of supplies."

Anna had somehow managed to escape her brother's hold and she yelled again, "Those were our supplies for the whole month! Food and medicine and valuable goods and-"

"We know, Anna." Altair said, and his voice was as calming to her as her presence was to Gage.

"That all, Gage?" the merchant's son asked in a bored tone, his girlfriend tensing up.

"No. Helmer returned from Asgard today. He says there's construction going on near the Tower of Mana. He's heard that the Desians are building a new ranch there."

This caused an uproar from the elder children, and the younger ones joined in for the fun of it. Anna jumped, her feet planted steadily on the three inches of railing, her long braid flipping over her shoulder, giving her a wild look. Gage was startled by the intense reaction and he twitched visibly, Julia chuckling at him.

Anna's furious expression slowly turned to a tiny smile as she watched her friends and family united in their anger, the emotions struggling to break loose at the slightest temptation. She would give them that temptation.

"Hey!" she yelled over them all and several pairs of shocked eyes turned to face her. "Who wants to spar?"

The children cried out in fervid agreement, and there was a mad rush for the weapons in the corner. The merchant's daughter was almost pushed off the stairs.

A five year old boy with red hair picked up his top and joined his friends in the middle of the floor, his older opponent with twin daggers looking as though he'd already won. The merchant's son made several difficult and showy moves with his small blades, the crowd circling them cheering him on. The young boy grinned and threw his top at him.

In traditional tournament style, the winner faced a new challenger, and if a new winner was crowned, the earlier defeated could face off against this new winner. His top only got the small child so far and he fell from his pedestal of glory after losing to the next challenger, Julia.

Julia was eventually knocked down by her cousin, and Gage later lost to Altair. Finally, Anna defeated her brother and faced an onslaught of children. The merchant's son, his sister, his girlfriend, Julia, Gage, the boy with the top, and Altair ganged up on her, forcing her onto the railing to take them on one by one.

The merchant's son and his girlfriend tried a pincer attack, but they were disarmed easily and retreated to the crowd. Julia was unable to defend herself with her short, blunt arrows and she too fell back. Gage reveled in the chance to be so close to his longtime crush, but he was so distracted by her that his short sword was quickly knocked out of his hand and landed on the floor below.

It was down to Anna and her younger brother, twin swords against buster sword, strategy and speed against pure muscle. They stayed on the railing for the challenge, shuffling back and forth with their parries and blocks.

Because of its sheer size, Altair could only block and swing forward or side to side, severely limiting his agility. His sister easily sidestepped every forward stroke, ducked every side swing.

Anna quickly bored of the monotonous block-parry-block-swing pattern of their fight. On Altair's next side stroke, she leapt into the air instead of ducking and landed steadily on the broad side of his blade. He paused, giving her the perfect opportunity for a clean win. Before Altair knew what had happened, his older sister's blades were pointed at his throat.

She muttered a single word, "Dead," before flipping off the buster sword to a spot further down on the railing.

The others often wondered whether Altair was jealous of his sister's skill with her blades, but they did not understand. While she fought to win, he simply fought to defend himself. He never wanted the burden of living up to Anna's skill, with the possibility of being forced to kill in the future. They were polar opposites, Anna and Altair, in personality, style, grace, life…

In the silence that reigned after her masterful win, a single sound echoed through the inn- the sharp clapping of a tall, cloaked stranger from the floor below.

It startled Anna so much that she lost her footing on the rail and tumbled downward, her companions instantly leaning over the railing and screaming for her.

The stranger was, luckily, positioned directly underneath the rail and caught her in strong arms she thought she recognized. Anna caught a glimpse of auburn hair before the man set her down, moving one arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.

Anna Garris, forever outspoken and energetic, could not remember ever being speechless before in her life. But at that moment, with his reddish brown eyes sweeping over her body for injuries and his arm around her, the seventeen year old found that she could barely breath, let alone speak.

"Anna! Are you okay?!" her brother's panicked voice reached her as he took the stairs two at a time, leaping over the railing near the bottom and rushing to her side. A crowd of worried children followed, Gage leading them.

She mustered up enough breath to respond, "I-I'm all right, Altair. Just a little winded."

When the stranger released her, Anna missed his comforting warmth immediately and almost tried to lean back into his touch, but she caught herself and leaned on her brother.

The man pulled the hood of his dark cloak back from his face, revealing stoic and slightly familiar features.

She couldn't place when, or where, but she had met him before, she was sure.

He spoke then, the deep voice washing over her thickly, fogging her mind, "I am in need of a room for the night. Are any available?"

Gage broke apart from the hoard of children and strode to the receptionist's desk, searching drawers for the room keys. No one had used them in a while, and so they were often misplaced. Eventually, he pulled one from the deepest drawer (mostly filled with extra hand towels and toothbrushes) and threw it in the man's direction.

He caught it effortlessly, the sleeve of his cloak sliding down to reveal purple clothes. Moving closer to the desk, he placed two one hundred coins on its oak surface. Finally, the man began his retreat to the second floor rooms, the crowd of children parting for him.

Pausing, he turned back to Anna, his eyes locking with hers and the feeling of nostalgia crept up on her again. He pursed his lips, and then said in a soft voice jarring out of place with the rest of his tense attitude, "You need to work on your footing."

Her jaw dropped at his retreating form, and once he was out of earshot she cried, "My footing? What the hell?!"

"Anna, calm down. It was just a little advice!" Altair chastised, holding his sister's shoulders in an attempt to stop her from charging up the stairs and breaking down the stranger's door.

"My footing is NOT poor! He startled me; what was I supposed to do? Ignore him?"

Gage listened to Anna's furious outbursts, a smile lighting up his boyish face. He had to clap his hands over the nearest five-year-old's ears when she started into a string of curses, but he was more worried that the stranger could hear her rants than a child's innocence.

If the man could hear her, he didn't acknowledge her statements or even leave his room until morning.

A/N: **I'll keep this somewhat short, but I thought I'd let you know that I'm writing a series of oneshots to go along with this. The first one will be posted with this update. I'll put the title and summary here:**

**Gaelras, an Interlude- Birth**

**Summary: He had watched over her since her very first breath. And he could still remember the smell of the lake and the pine trees- he always would. Specifically, he recalled the baby's wails as she entered the world. She was really, really loud.**

**A/N: Please check it out!**


	4. Martel's Prayer

**A/N: Hiya! It's been over two weeks, huh? Three-a-days really take up the time, they do! But I'm sure you'll be glad to know that our show this year will be SPECTACULAR! It's called Dance Revolution, and uses five pieces of different dance styles: City Shuffle (with Fosse!), Wedding Dance (Traditional Jewish piece with rifle!), El Tango de Roxanne (heck yes, the Moulin Rouge version!!!!), Moon Dance (Swing!), and………**

**THRILLER!!!!!!!!!**

**Who knew our marching band directors could have such good taste? And hats off to Ibe for the great composition!**

**….okay, you may not have understood any of that, but the condensed Layman's version is as follows:**

**I could not update because I had band camp. Our show will rock this year, especially with Tango Roxanne and Thriller. Yes, the song by Michael Jackson. And if we don't do the zombie dance I might have to murder Dave.**

**Now then, I give you update. In which Anna becomes a stealthy ninja with brother and hopeless crush in tow. Or not.**

**Gaelras, A Tales of Symphonia Story**

**Chapter 4: Martel's Prayer**

The innkeeper, Jordan Yaxley, grew increasingly frustrated as the children upstairs fooled around, play fighting and running around the second floor. He did not tolerate tomfoolery while there were guests in his inn.

Why the youths would want to meet again this early in the morning was beyond him, as they had just seen each other the night before, when the new guest had arrived.

Yaxley didn't really care what the kids did, as long as they didn't run the man out. His son told him that the stranger had paid enough gald to allow him four nights' stay. The most money he'd seen in several weeks.

Meanwhile, the floor above him bustled with activity. The younger children sparred with their play weapons, the older teens discussed battle strategies from best to worst scenario, and Anna, Altair, and Gage tried to peek in at the stranger through the cracks in the door.

"What's he doing?" Anna asked absentmindedly as she strained to see the man's form through the keyhole.

"I think he might be reading something." replied Altair. The thirteen year old was pressing his nose into the wall, one eye barely able to see the man sitting at a desk.

In contrast to their peeping, Gage attempted to stop them, "My dad will kill us if he finds out we've been spying on guests…"

Anna turned briefly to him, her copper braid falling over one shoulder, "Oh, grow a backbone, Gage. We'll be fine, as long as 'the guest' doesn't catch us."

"Anna, quick, get back! He's coming!" whispered her brother.

"Shit!"

The three jumped back just as the door flew open, but instead of the reprimand they expected, the man simply cocked an eyebrow and walked through the mass of children to the floor below.

Gage could hear his father apologizing profusely for the excessive noise the kids were causing, but the man did not respond.

All was quiet as he left, the closing door the only sound. Somehow, this stranger was able to silence a room with only his presence.

Anna picked up her swords, descended to the first floor, and looked after him, a puzzled expression on her face.

Looking up at her brother and Gage, she asked expectantly, "You coming?"

Being of an obedient disposition, both boys followed her out of the inn. The green eyed girl was searching for something.

Apparently, Anna's departure signaled the end of the children's gathering, as small groups of youths slowly filtered out of the building after them.

"Where are we going, Anna? Home?" Altair asked, shouldering his buster sword.

"No. I wanna see where he's going."

"The stranger?" Slightly jealous at the attention she was giving this cloaked man, Gage thought fast, "Do you really think that's a good idea? He could be dangerous."

"He's not."

"No one knows anything about him! He could be a Desian!"

"He isn't."

As the voice of reason, Altair felt prompted to state the logical opinion. "Anna, there are no certainties with someone like him. It is odd that anyone not involved with the Desians would choose to stay here, considering the city's actions in the past."

"He's unfriendly! He didn't speak to anyone but you, and that was just to chastise you." Gage cried, burying his short sword in the ground as if it could keep her from following the stranger.

"He is not unfriendly! He just wasn't…friendly, but that's not why I want to follow him. Altair, does he seem familiar to you?"

"Um…not really. But you recognize him?"

"I'm not sure. I think, if I keep watching him, I might be able to figure it out."

Sister and brother stared at each other, and if Gage wasn't sure that such things didn't exist, he would have thought that they might've been conversing through telepathy.

Finally, Altair's soft, decisive voice floated to his ears, "I'll go with you, Anna. What about you, Gage?" 

He had to admit, he was curious. And if liking Anna for so long had taught him anything, it was to give in to curiosity every once in a while.

"I'm with you too." Now, if only the dense girl could understand double meanings…

They maneuvered between shops, weaving around livestock and barrels of pickled goods and crates, until they reached the temple. It was pure luck that Altair noticed the stranger enter the little chapel.

Around the back, Anna pushed open a side door and ushered the boys into the alcove adjacent to the sanctuary.

Pressing their ears against the door to the chapel, they could just make out the man's slow, deliberate speech. Anna, with her eye peering through the cracks, saw that he appeared to be praying, for he was alone.

The usual, traditional prayer echoed through the chapel's rafters:

_Goddess Martel, protector and keeper of all things, creator of life, bestow upon me your grace and guidance. My mana and life are yours, my strength devoted to your will. Ton amour, mes corps et âme, t'âme, mon armour._

_**Your love, my heart and soul, your soul, my love.**_

The three exchanged confused glances; what language was that?

The stranger pulled back the hood of his cloak, revealing his stony eyes and auburn spikes. He seemed expectant, waiting for something, or someone.

Nothing appeared, no person or deity, but he spoke nonetheless.

"I have not contacted you in a while. This has, most likely, caused some unrest between the seraphim. My report will be sent with the design plans, and I will return once the operation is underway."

Gage motioned for them to leave, and they complied, Anna quite reluctantly. As she closed the alcove door behind her slowly, trying not to let it squeak, he began to rant.

"I knew it! I bloody knew it! He's a Desian! They've bugged the chapel! That weird language he spoke must've been the activator! He works for them, or maybe he's a spy, or a Desian architect, or a-"

"Gage, shut up."

It would surprise anyone that Altair Garris had the ability to say such a thing, but as the innkeeper's son whipped around to face him, stunned, he thought he understood. Altair stared at his sister, her eyes cast to the floor and a look of defeat spreading across her beautiful features.

Yet again, the peppy teen was experiencing something she never had before. She felt…disappointed. What that man had said, it was like he was personally denying her claims of knowing him.

But did she, really?

The only familiar feature was his eyes, those reddish-brown, suffering eyes. Anna could read them easily: pain, wisdom, even loneliness.

Her mother had always told her she was too curious for her own good. Like the time she'd almost gotten herself killed at five, when the Desians, chasing after a mercenary, followed him into town and took her hostage- 

Anna's brilliant green eyes glowed with realization, but something dimmed them immediately. The memory (or was it?) had escaped her.

"Anna?" her brother called, concerned. "I know you wanted to recognize him, but his words are awfully incriminating."

"Did you hear me? They've bugged our chapel! Which means that they might have put bugs all over Luin! Listening devices! Cameras! Who knows what they could've seen?" Shouted a panicked Gage, and the siblings began to understand.

Anna stared at the little inn in the distance, her eyes growing wide, "Our meeting place…"

"That must be why he's staying at the inn. He can keep a closer eye than even his bugs!"

"Gage, just shut up!"

This time it was Anna who yelled at him, and normally, he would've shrugged it off. But the desperation in her voice made him feel extremely guilty. Gage had jumped a little on the idea that Anna's new interest might not have been so great, but was his jealousy really necessary?

She couldn't be THAT interested in him. He was a stranger!

…right?

**A/N: Shorter than usual, but I haven't written anything in two weeks! Please, review and enjoy!**


	5. La Foret d'Avion

**A/N: I am alive, though I know it seems unlikely. I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update! Unfortunately, this can't be my first priority because I need a good education. Therefore, updates will still be slow, but hopefully not a slow as this one, in the future. I have marching band practice three to five days of the week and a flute lesson on top of school. It's going to be difficult, but I'm going to try to find some time where I can fit in some good writing.**

**Gaelras: Chapter Five****- La Fôret d'Avion**

For the first time in several months, the children did not meet at the inn the following night. Or the next, for that matter. And Jordan Yaxley started to feel frightened at the growing annoyance on his guest's face.

It was as if the children had somehow calmed the stranger, making him forget the frustration that so easily overcame him.

Jordan flinched as a door on the second floor slammed, an irate auburn haired man practically running down the stairs and out into the streets of Luin.

Just one more night and he'd be gone. Unless he paid for another night…

Yaxley was not looking forward to that possibility, no matter how much gald was left on his desk. Angry guests were bad for all future business.

Bathed in the shadow of early evening, Anna slipped from building to building as she followed the stranger's footsteps, this time alone. She knew she was taking several risks by doing so, and yet once again, her curiosity was overwhelming her senses.

As the cloaked man strode past the last building before the landscape turned to trees and hills, she hesitated. If she wished to continue following him, she would have to be even more careful. There were few objects big enough to hide an eighteen year old girl in the outskirts of Luin.

She pressed on anyway, questions clouding her judgment. Her heart thundered in her chest, adrenaline pumping through her veins, every question and doubt she held for him running through her head like a mantra.

Anna lost sight of him at a clearing, one quite familiar to her: the place of her birth. As a child, she recalled being told the story of her birth over and over again- how, as they strolled through the woods, Lira went into labor, and it took the generosity of a stranger to bring their baby into the world- and then how the man had loved her company, playing with her for over an hour before his companion came for him.

…Why did Anna keep reliving her past whenever she tried to think of him?

…And where did he go?

Following him was such a stupid idea! Now the eighteen year old was alone, far from where anyone could hear if she screamed, and somewhere a possible Desian was lurking.

Why did she never listen to Altair? Oh, right, he was her brother. And no self-respecting rebellious older sister would listen to her baby brother.

But every once in a while, Altair would say something wise. Like now.

"It is not wise to wander dark places alone."

That was what he said. And that was what she heard in her left ear, making her jump.

The cloaked stranger stood not two feet from her, and Anna felt an undignified squeak leave her surprised lips.

Stepping back reflexively, her emerald eyes were pulled to his crimson orbs, swirling with eternal pain and weariness and…worry?

"You should leave this place." His voice was like steel, just as she remembered from the inn. Forceful and smooth.

Later, Anna would curse herself for her lack of tact and abundance of curiosity as she blurted, "Why should I?" She had not originally meant for her words to sound reproachful, but a combination of adrenaline and slight fear forced her hand.

At least she didn't appear afraid, right?

"Go." He took a step toward her, cloak falling around his shoulders in a sudden breeze. There was a storm coming; dark clouds rolled quickly across the patches of sky visible through the holes in the tree limbs.

Ceaselessly indignant, Anna Garris raised her soprano voice slightly, "Why?"

Gravity-defying, ginger locks seemed to stand up straight in irritation at her persistence.

"Dark forests are dangerous for young girls."

Anna perceived that the stranger's vocal capabilities may have been limited to merely simple sentences and grunts. Or, the man was extremely annoyed with her. Either way, she was too incensed to care.

"Is that a threat?"

"Not from me. Go home."

He obviously thought the conversation over, as he turned with a gentle swish of his heavy cloak and retreated toward a worn path which Anna recalled as the trail to a large cave Luin's youths loved to explore.

Anna disagreed, a plan forming in her clever mind. Staying in plain sight, the brunette strolled across the clearing, leaves and twigs crunching under her thick leather boots.

She heard the auburn haired man sigh and his body visibly tensed, cloak lightly thumping against his heels as he halted movement.

"What are you doing?"

Grinning, Anna bounced closer to him and replied brightly, "I'm going home. This route takes a little longer, but it's worth it!"

Actually, this specific path would take almost an hour longer than usual, but she wasn't about to tell him that.

Being an extremely boisterous person, Anna Garris had often endured the glares of others as she good-naturedly antagonized them. She had never experienced one so piercing or fiery, however.

His crimson eyes seemed to glow, lips tightly pursed and jaw set.

Anna was afraid, and she took an involuntary step backward, her back hitting a large tree. Her hands groped for the trunk, anchoring her there.

…and perhaps he saw her fear, because his expression immediately softened.

Was that an apology? Two quiet, simple words, hanging over them in the cool air preceding a storm, expressing regret?

"I'm sorry."

Maybe she imagined it, that someone so obviously strong, and uncaring about anyone in her little town, would say something like that.

Her head swimming, Anna shook it back and forth, and the loose strands of brown hair slipping out of her long braid flowed across her face, obscuring her frightened green eyes from him. Or so she hoped.

Perhaps it was a sense of accountability that encouraged his next words, making his voice sound forced, reluctant, hesitant, "If…you insist on following me, you'd best stay close."

She could not help the grin that spread on her face, possibly making him wonder if she'd manipulated him, and returned to her bouncy, normal self. He sighed again, then continued down the trail.

"Do not speak of what you see here to anyone." The stranger added sternly.

Happy that he didn't seem angry with her, Anna responded, "Okay!" Then, a lingering question in her mind left her mouth before her brain could process it.

"Who are you? Have I seen you before?"

If she hadn't been keeping a careful distance behind him as they walked, she would've seen a tiny smirk cross his face, "Do you forget so easily? You saw me at the inn, as you fell of a railing."

She scowled. "Not funny."

"Were you more properly balanced you could have avoided-"

"My footing is **not** poor!"

"-such an unceremonious fall. You could have hurt yourself."

"I don't need a stranger to berate me!"

"Then leave."

…crap. How had she fallen into that trap? Oh, right, her temper; Altair did tell her it would get in the way someday.

"Fine, don't tell me. I'll just call you Mr. Serious, then." She was grinning again, and it widened when she saw him grimace.

"Kratos Aurion."

"And I'm Anna Garris! Pleased to meet you."

Bounding in front of him, the teen extended a hand and waited. She was only slightly miffed when he ignored the gesture, but to his credit the auburn head did nod once.

As the pair approached the cave, Anna noticed a large, dark shape taking up almost the entirety of the domed cavern. It was mostly rounded, with two large triangles protruding from each side, and a piece of clear plastic that reflected the sun as it disappeared behind the gray storm clouds.

Noticing her confused expression, Kratos beckoned her further into the dark cave. She followed somewhat hesitantly, fear warring with curiousity.

In Luin, and most likely all of Sylvarant, there were few things to fear besides Desians and thieves. Oh, and the unknown. Sylvarant had a lot of 'unknowns', but the common civilian didn't have to worry about those much.

Therefore, as Anna was inclined to ignore Gage's ideas of architect Desians spying on her, the eighteen year old female never thought of the fact that a Desian, particularly male, might be leading her into something dangerous, possibly to her naivety.

She may have been quite clever, but she normally left the common sense to her brother.

Kratos ran a hand over the shiny surface of the…thing. Unable to recognize the odd structure, Anna's bright eyes turned from curiosity to bewilderment.

"It's a rheaird." He said bluntly.

…huh?

He shook his head at her, as if to warn her not to inquire further, but then again, Anna never was good at reading body language.

"Re-air-d?"

"A vehi- transportation device."

"What's vehi-transportation?"

Kratos' face flipped from an expression of deep thought, furrowed brows and all, to disbelief. It was almost like she'd…surprised him? The stoic man, incapable of not knowing anything, astonished?

…uh-uh. Her imagination was running away with her again.

Kratos apparently decided more explanation was necessary, as he continued carefully, admonishing her gently, "Not "vehi-transportation", just "transportation". A rheaird is a device that allows me to travel quickly from one place to another."

"Oh…where can I get one?!"

If only the teen realized the reason for the auburn haired man's frightened face, she would have blushed profusely. If only she could see the image floating in his mind, of the brunette wildly racing around Sylvarant in a bright red Rheaird (as red seemed to be a good color for her), crashing into trees and buildings and people. Specifically, him. However, she was not psychic. Anna did not have the ability to see the daydreams in other people's minds.

Lucky for Kratos.

Because Anna loved disguising her embarrassment by way of bashing the heads of those who initiated said blush.

She was much too busy exploring the odd vehicle, memorizing its icy blue color and smooth, shining surface. At one point, she reached for the red ignition switch and Kratos had to grab her wrist, gently guiding her away from the machine.

"How does it work?" her curious, elated voice inquired.

"It runs on magitechnology."

"Can I see?"

More images of teenage disasters running through his mind, Kratos answered truthfully and a little too quickly, "It's damaged. It won't run."

"Oh."

Again, Anna had no way to realize the effect her disappointed voice had on the man standing before her, but that was probably for the better.

She ripped her gaze from the strange device to Kratos, regarding him with a thoughtful expression.

"I bet Gage could fix it. He's good with that kind of thing."

"He knows how to repair magitechnology?"

"Uh…sure?"

"How reassuring."

Ignoring the blatant sarcasm, Anna made a bold move and grabbed his wrist, which appeared almost translucent compared to the heavy tan she had achieved through training with her precious swords. Crimson eyes widened in something akin to shock, but this she also ignored, practically dragging him back the way they came.

What unnerved the teen was how quiet Kratos remained, even though she could see turmoil swirling like a hurricane in his eyes.

**A/N: Well, it's a little longer than last time, and I think it flows better near the end, but I need to write more!!!!**

**Oh! The chapter title is French, translates to "the forest of the airplane". I thought it was fitting. Plus, I had no good English titles.**


	6. Arguments and Sneaking Suspicions

**A/N: Right then. Because I love you all, I wrote nonstop on a long car ride to the funeral of my cousins' grandma. I cried for half of it. So you better love me too. I had several angsty flashes of inspiration so it's longer than some of the previous chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I keep forgetting to do this! Ahhh! Don't sue me! Kratos isn't mine! …yet. Just kidding!**

**Chapter Six: Arguments and Sneaking Suspicions **

"…What?!"

They must not have realized that he could hear them through the door. Of course, no normal human being could hear between wooden walls a foot thick unless the occupants happened to be screaming, but that was beside the point. The point was, in fact, that he could hear them. And he didn't like it.

It's not like he wanted to eavesdrop, but when one was an angel, one could not help what said angelic senses picked up…for the most part.

And if he were eavesdropping on any normal female, he wouldn't have thought anything of her words, shrugging them off like dust flying off a forgotten piece of clothing ("forgotten piece of clothing" indeed. More like "Mithos-hasn't-let-me-leave-so-I-had-no-reason-to-wear-said clothing). However, the brunette in the next room was one he had seen before, several times, yet it was that very truth that worried him.

"I'm sure I've seen him before!" she was whispering excitedly, "I just can't place him! Altair, you sure you don't recognize him?"

She was not supposed to be able to recall a memory forcibly repressed by Angelic magic. No human was. But he could clearly hear her strong soprano voice from the second level hall, just outside his room, gushing on about his familiarity to her.

"I don't think so. But I could be wrong." Her brother. What did she call him, Alter or something like that? He could not have cared less at this point. He only cared about discovering why she could still recognize him.

Perhaps he had come across her one too many times, and his magic could no longer suppress the memories she held of him.

But then again, he was not supposed to care. He was angel: an unfeeling bastard with a shady past and no social skills.

Morbid, depressing thoughts aside, Kratos resigned himself to finishing a group of reports on the in-progress Asgard Ranch until the girl realized that no innkeeper's son could fix a piece of magitechnology as sophisticated as a rheaird. That is, until she started screaming. She seemed determined to leave this world the same way she entered it. And for hearing already heightened by Angelic power to aggravating levels, high-pitched yells were unbearable.

….okay, maybe he had another, more personal reason. Like the fact that his integrity was being insulted. Or that the boy was making Anna upset. Not that Kratos/ mind would admit to such thoughts.

They were the strays of a former life, of a human life. No matter how often they decided to surface, he would repress them, deny them, for the rest of his existence.

Outside, Anna fought to keep her frustration with Gage at a minimum as he ranted over Kratos' many faults and how he would not ever help a Desian and how he didn't even know what magitechnolgy was and-

No self-respecting girl could stand so much hostile ranting for so long, and Anna lost it far before most of the prim, proper ladies of Palmacosta or Asgard.

"You don't know anything, Gage! Nothing! You're so determined to condemn him that you won't even give him a chance! Why in Martel's name are you so obsessed with destroying his character? You haven't even spoken to him!"

"I don't want to speak to him! He's dangerous, Anna, I know it!"

"How do you know? What proof do you have but the chapel?"

Gage's knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists by his sides, his self-control slipping, "I don't need proof! He'll do nothing but hurt you!"

It was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Anna suddenly went silent and turned away, biting her lip. But Gage, worked up over how ardently she defended the man, continued vindictively.

"You can't deny it, can you? You have no reason to trust him, and matter how strongly you defend him, you can't really know whether he's trustworthy or not."

The innkeeper's son barely had time to register a deep feeling of guilt at his words before he sensed the sharp point of cold, hard steel against his throat. Eyes going wide, his muddy brown eyes flitted around anxiously before landing on-

"Kratos." Anna breathed, her mouth partially open, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The auburn haired man spoke calmly, as if he were making ordinary conversation with the teens present, "I have no desire to harm anyone in this town, and certainly not Ms. Garris. But when my character is disgraced as you have done, I will defend my own honor. You have no choice but to trust me now, child, for your life rests in my hand."

For several tense moments, no one moved, but then Altair took a tentative step forward and placed a hand on the steel blade, gazing at both Kratos and Gage evenly. His normally quiet, shy voice boomed in the tense silence hovering over the inn, like a judge's verdict in a fateful case, "Anna trusts you, sir, and that is enough for me. Please accept my apologies for my friend's actions; in this era of the Desians, it is difficult to trust on a whim. My sister seems to be the only one still able to do so."

He turned to Gage now, a stern expressionon his face, "The sooner his transportation device is repaired, the sooner he will leave. You understand, Gage?"

"Fine. You didn't have to threaten me, though."

The sword lowered, and Gage huffed a he crossed his arms. "Where is this transportation device, then?"

Kratos looked extremely skeptical. "You have the knowledge to repair magitechnology?"

"I still don't know what that word means, but Gage can fix anything if he can figure out how it works!" Anna answered happily. She did not notice the proud flush that splashed across her friend at that moment.

Jordan Yaxley did not bother to look up as the foursome passed him and left the inn, nor did he question the odd comments he had heard floating around the second floor. But when his son returned home nearly three hours past midnight, the innkeeper was even more inclined to kick the stranger out.

A large, callused hand, made that way by years of sword fighting and hard labor, ran through auburn spikes in irritation. Kratos had known from the start that the boy couldn't do it; now it was just a matter of how long he would try.

And with Anna cheering him on, giving enthusiastic encouragement (a little too enthusiastic, in his opinion…wait, why did he care?), he was less likely to give up in time for supper. The moon was already making a slow, steady ascension through the night sky, but then again the 'moon' was really Teth'ealla, wasn't it?

Kratos leaned against the cavern wall, carefully watching Gage's attempts at repairing his rheaird in hopes that he could prevent further damage to its already ravaged engine.

The innkeeper's son was muttering to himself about gears and ignition keys and energy sources, his brows knitted together in concentration, which mildly surprised the Angel. This child was actually figuring out how a piece of magitechnology worked! And Sylvarant was supposed to be the declining world!

Bored out of her mind, Anna finally convinced her brother to join her in a little sparring, still shouting encouragement to Gage in between blows to her swords. Kratos smiled slightly as one of her swords glinted in the moonlight, a blade of steel engraved with familiar Angelic runes of protection and strength. It was paired with a simple broadsword, not the most beneficial pairing, but it seemed to work for her.

He analyzed her movements as the seventeen year old made circles around her brother and his buster sword, the limitations due to its weight rendering the boy incapable of defeating his opponent. They had improved since he last saw them spar, on a hilltop just outside the town, Anna still just a child.

She was most certainly not a child now.

But he knew that from their last meeting, in Palmacosta. She had been so broken up over the possible loss of that forge…Degarver, was it? And he could not bear to be the cause of her pain, which he found rather unusual.

Not only was he unable to stop seeing her, he couldn't stand seeing her in any state but pure joy.

Kratos shook his head visibly, catching Gage's eye as he took a short break. The Angel ignored the inquiring look thrown his way.

Losing himself to memory, the auburn haired man recalled the forge they borrowed for a night, the warmth of the fire as he critiqued her style of sword-making, the softness of her skin as he guided her hands in making the Angelic symbols on the blade…

And lastly, how innocent, pure, serene, she looked while asleep. He remembered pushing a loose strand of her chocolate colored locks behind an ear, placing the pouch of money in one hand, and Degarver and Gaelras on her lap, turning back once before he flew back to Derris Kharlan.

He really had needed that sword; his steel sword was rusted beyond repair, and he made that trip to Sylvarant for the very purpose of buying a new weapon. The simple longsword he bought instead wasn't half the sword Degarver was.

_Whirrrr_. Snapping back to the present, the Angel's head whipped around so fast he felt the bones in his neck crack, protesting angrily to their maltreatment.

An arrow was speeding toward Kratos, its owner hidden among the trees, aimed perfectly for his heart.

But as it neared him, Anna and Altair's sparring match shifted to an angle where the girl's arms were positioned above her head in defense, her brother's sword pushing down on her twin swords as they fought strength for strength.

The arrow missed, but at a price. As it whizzed by, it caught on Anna's forearm, ripping across her flesh, and it was forced to change its trajectory, thudding lightly in the ground beside Kratos' feet.

She gripped her right arm, a red stain quickly spreading over the sleeve of her tunic. Altair dropped his buster sword, but even being so close, he didn't manage to reach his sister before Kratos did.

The Angel quickly cradled her forearm in his large hands, examining the wound. It was fairly deep, but no bone or muscle seemed to be damaged. She was one lucky girl, but, then again, he had blessed her as a baby.

He raised crimson eyes to meet her emerald orbs, their depths fighting back the pain he knew she was experiencing, and felt one of his meticulously built emotionless walls crumble. Gently tearing her sleeve off with a small knife he carried, Kratos gauged her reaction as he wound the clean sections of the cloth around her arm. He had to loosen it once when she hissed through her teeth, the cloth pulling too tightly over her muscle.

Gage and Altair looked on warily, one with slight jealousy at how this man had access to her skin, the other with brotherly worry.

"What was that?" Gage asked.

The biting tone underneath Kratos' words made him appear harsh as he replied, "An arrow, obviously."

"Someone's trying to kill me?" Anna cried, jumping up and turning to the trees in fear.

Kratos sighed deeply, "Not you." He appeared to feel…guilty?

He was supposed to be detached from all life, impassive, blank, cold to all that breathed. Yet around her...he became…human again…

What was wrong with him? All those precious walls guarding his emotions were coming down, one by one, because of a child four thousand years younger than himself?

No. He would not allow it. Martel's revival depended on it.

…right?

"Kratos?" Anna's imploring voice called to him, annihilating his attempts at burying wayward thoughts of her.

"What's wrong?" she questioned, the concern in her voice warming his abused heart.

No! He would not allow himself to become attached to her like some sentimental fool to his pet!

All right, so ignoring her probably appeared childish, but he was scared, dammit!

…no, not scared. No Angel got scared. Especially the High Seraphim Kratos.

Instead of answering her question, the stubborn seraphim addressed her jealous friend, "Have you given up yet?"

Apparently, the question was unexpected, because Gage blinked owlishly for a moment before replying, "Huh? Oh! Definitely not! Actually, I need to fashion a temporary replacement conductor for your energy source. That should do the trick, and it only requires a little bit of metal and Anna's forging skills."

"Only? Are my skills that arbitrary?" Anna teased, an eyebrow raised.

Gage merely blushed in reply and set off, back toward the city. The others silently followed, Kratos last. His head was still reeling at the possibility that a child of the decaying world had managed to work out the problem with a superior piece of technology, let alone think of a way to repair it!

They worked diligently until nearly three in the morning, or so Kratos surmised, before the rheaird was back in working order. Anna's metal conductor worked better than the original, and when the defeaning roar of the engine encompassed the cave, the teens rejoiced. Kratos, as was his nature, merely grinned. Which was more emotion then he'd shown in years.

Maintaining his emotionless façade was exhausting, after all.

Retreating to town with the moon now at their backs, he noticed Anna's lips turning downward in the slightest of frowns. She seemed unfocused, hesitant, unsure of herself. As Altair and Gage sped ahead of the pair, her voice, unusually gentle, pierced the night-

"You're going to leave, aren't you? Tomorrow morning?"

The response was reflexive, and if he'd been thinking properly, he wouldn't have given her false hope, "Perhaps, unless I can secure some type of work."

"Luin is always in need of people to do odd jobs. I'm sure you'll find something."

"Then I suppose I must look."

"Good." She smiled, her eyes glowing like stars in the darkness.

And, far ahead of them, a conversation of very different proportions began with Gage and his skepticism, "I was right. He is dangerous."

"Why?" Altair asked, a challenge in his face.

"He almost got Anna killed!"

"I wonder how he managed to shoot an arrow from the trees when he was standing by you the entire time?"

Gage spluttered, annoyed at Altair's mocking tone, "That's not the point! If he hadn't come here in the first place, she wouldn't be hurt!"

"But she wouldn't be half as cheerful as she is now."

"So she isn't happy unless she's trailing Desians avoiding assassination attempts?"

"No, she isn't happy unless she's trailing _him_. His occupation doesn't matter to her. She sees something that outweighs all suspicion."

"When did you become a romantic?"

"When did you lose faith in people?" the boy replied, annoyance crossing his features, "You need to let her be, Gage. You think she just doesn't see your feelings, but she does. Better than anyone, I think. And she's too kind to tell you her true feelings, so she ignores you. Take the hint, Gage. Let her go."

He had seen something like this coming, but Gage could not deny how much it hurt, that mental slap across his face. As if all his hopes were crashing down around him, abandoning him, shattering into thousands of microscopic shards.

But if Anna's repeated disregard toward his advances had taught him anything, it was to pick up the pieces and persevere.

"No." The finality in Gage's voice startled even him, Altair turning to him with an incredulous expression.

"Gage-"

"I won't let go of how I feel. Even if she doesn't feel the same way."

It was quiet for a while as the youngest boy pondered the enigma of his friend's words. But eventually, Altair clapped him on the back a couple of times in sympathy and acquiescence. Gage responded by catching the boy in a strong headlock, starting a mini-wrestling match.

Behind the pair, Anna cocked her head at her brother's action and turned to Kratos for an explanation on the minds of males. He shrugged, silently telling her he had no idea and did not wish to know.

**A/N: Poor Gage. I know he's annoying, but he's really cute in a jealous, possessive way! I updated early because I had time. One free day until next Sunday. No, not the Sunday-in-three-days-Sunday, the Sunday-in-another-week-and-three-days-Sunday. So, here you are. Oh! The actual plot will begin soon! Yay! Lisez et revisez, si vous plait! (tis French for read and review, please!) **


	7. More Arguments and Exploding Carts?

**A/N: I managed to find time to write! Yippee! The plot begins…next chapter! But, uh, cliffhanger for now. Sorry!**

**Chapter Seven: More Arguments and…Exploding Carts? **

Creeping into her bed that night- er, morning, as it was after three AM- Anna opted to changing the makeshift bandage around her arm to one a little more…sterile. She removed the cloth slowly, tenderly, as not to disturb the gash, but she found that it did not hurt nearly as terribly as it had earlier. In truth, she had forgotten it was there for several hours, for it hadn't troubled her at all. Maybe it wasn't as deep as she first thought?

Indeed it was neither deep nor still bleeding as the last bit of cloth fell away. Jaw hanging open in disbelief, Anna carefully prodded the faint red line that remained on her forearm. The gash had disappeared, leaving only a small, thin scar in its wake.

She'd been healed.

The thought frightened her a little. Luin had only one healer- an old woman who could no longer leave her home due to her age, and her magic had never been particularly strong, just enough for a fever or a scratch. Most of Luin's citizens didn't bother with healing, preferring to wait out the illness rather than pay an outrageous sum of gald for inadequate healing. Yes, healing was expensive no matter what city you lived in, considering how rare healers were and how much energy it took to use such advanced magic.

So, when Anna considered the strength it must have taken to completely heal her arm, she felt the tiniest traces of fear course through her. And only one person had been close enough to heal her without the annoying flashes of colored light normally associated with long distance spells.

She didn't quite understand why it made her angry. Most girls would've been flattered that someone had used such precious magic on them. Why did she feel so…mad?

Her brother probably would've answered with something to the effect of, "You feel anger because you assume that the only reason he healed you was to avoid hearing you whine about the pain."

She ignored this logical answer because it did not suit her anger. Because letting go of anger wasn't as satisfactory as fueling it.

Mr. Yaxley was slowly getting accustomed to the children that would swarm into his inn as night fell once a week, and when they stopped coming, he didn't complain. He'd overheard Gage at the last meeting announcing that they could no longer meet "due to the fact that our location has been compromised" which led to a long explanation of the word "compromised" to the youngest of the group. Whatever that meant. In Yaxley's opinion, the kids didn't want to be overheard by himself or the only guest currently staying at his inn. And in that respect, he didn't blame them.

However, the sword smith's children were still coming, and they no longer respected the guest's privacy. They would gather at his door, Gage in tow, until he let them in.

But not today. He wouldn't allow it. Gage had entered the inn just a few hours before dawn, and his father was waiting for him with a practiced disapproving gaze. Yaxley grounded him when the boy refused to explain his whereabouts, and now Gage would sit behind the reception desk until sundown. No "breaks" in which he could leave to find the Garris siblings. No time to "stretch" and visit their guest.

Jordan Yaxley glared at his son as the teen fidgeted in his chair and received a sheepish, apologetic, and most likely rehearsed, look in response. Arrogant teenagers.

The door to the inn slammed open, an extremely enraged Anna Garris practically flying up the stairs and pounding on the guest's door. Gage picked up his chair from where it had fallen when he'd jumped out of it wincing as he touched his head in the spot where he had whacked it on the back wall. Jordan shook his head and pushed a pile of paperwork toward his son. As he saw it, the best way to eliminate curiosity was to keep busy with paperwork he didn't feel like doing himself.

Why is it that, the one time he was actually able to sleep, an irate female had to try to break down his door?

Kratos groaned, rubbing his eyes; he was not used to being sleepy. After all, it only happened about once every two months. His foggy brain vaguely wondered why then he would be sleepy after only two weeks without sleep until someone started pounding on his door again.

Pulling open the door, he barely had time to step out of the way before Anna ran into the room, putting one hand on her hip and the other pointed at him accusingly.

He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow questioningly, attempting to look more awake than he actually was.

Apparently his actions didn't sedate her, and she shouted at him, "You jerk! You think you can just use magic on people without their permission?!"

…what? Was she dreaming or something? He hadn't used any magic on her.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

She huffed indignantly and continued, still furious, "I would've been fine without it! I don't need your help!"

That was when Kratos noticed how exuberantly she was waving her arms, and how a certain forearm seemed to be lacking a bandage. Or a wound from an arrow, for that matter.

He caught said arm as it came down, running his thumb along the scar that now marred her tanned skin. The girl immediately halted her movements and watched his eyes as they examined her arm.

"You were healed?" he breathed.

"I was."

"But I saw no light…"

"Of course not. You did it."

Ah. No wonder he was tired. Healing was the most taxing of the magical arts, and even an angel would need to recover energy after healing a gash like hers. Even if there was no damaged tissue, creating cells took an enormous amount of effort.

The only question that remained was how he had managed to heal her without realizing it himself? It was possible, and not all that unexpected, especially considering the contact he had with the gash as he wound cloth around it, but Kratos was a prideful Angel, and admitting a loss of control (albeit a small loss) was beyond his comprehension.

Anna was speaking again, softer this time, but still with a sharp edge to her voice, "I could've handled it on my own. I've cut myself before and I've never needed healing." There was a large amount of defiance laced in her words, as they both knew that an arrow to the arm was much worse than an accidental nick from a blade.

She was angry at him because healing her meant he had accused her of some weakness? That was a bit…backwards, wasn't it? He had healed her to lessen her pain, not to question her pain threshold.

"You're welcome." He said sulkily, removing his hands from her arm, "You misunderstand my intentions. I meant to help."

"I was fine on my own!"

"Then in the future I will not even consider healing you. Is that acceptable, Ms. Garris?" He was both exasperated and amused at her antics and therefore unable to see the slight fear enter her emerald eyes as he spoke, her stance becoming less hostile and more relaxed.

"You won't?" It came out as a loud murmur, as if she had not meant to say it. Kratos nodded, his auburn spikes swaying lightly.

"…okay then. Good."

As obviously unsure of herself as she appeared, he shouldn't have let her leave. But he did.

And Gage wondered just what the man had done to her as she shuffled past him, without acknowledgement, and left the building. His head followed her movements until his father whacked him on the head, unfortunately in the same spot as he'd previously hit it on the wall. He rubbed the back of head and resigned himself to waiting until nightfall to talk to her.

Technically, the Garris siblings were grounded. Realistically, only one of them allowed such a punishment. And the other was too busy trying to hold onto her anger to listen to her parents, who were very concerned about how she had acquired that long scar on her arm.

By the time Altair had convinced them that she was not suicidal, Anna had returned from the inn looking rather dejected. Lira yelled at her for leaving, but the girl didn't seem to hear her, while Eric sent her sympathetic glances. When her mother was finished, Anna returned to her room, her brother following.

"So he's a Desian with magical powers, what's the big deal?" Altair asked, once the siblings were out of earshot in Anna's room.

The girl rubbed her scarred arm worriedly. "But why would a Desian heal me?"

"He probably felt guilty for you taking an arrow meant for him. Even Desians have hearts, Anna."

"That's the other thing that's bothering me. Assassins are normally Desians, right? So why would a Desian want to kill his own kind?"

"Quit making things so complicated. I'm sure there are citizens that want him gone more than Desians. Someone tried to kill a Desian. There's nothing wrong with that."

She ignored the comment and fell onto her bed dramatically, one arm punching the air triumphantly, "I'll bet he's a spy that got caught, and now the Desians are trying to get rid of him before he can tell his superiors their plans!"

"…Anna, you can be really weird sometimes."

She grinned, but the smile faded as she recalled her argument with Kratos.

"I made him promise not to heal me again. Was that bad?"

Altair shook his head and groaned, brown bangs flying haphazardly about his boyish face. "You are so headstrong, Anna. You think that being healed is a sign of weakness, don't you? That he thought you were weak."

He took the silence that followed as reluctant agreement to his statement, watching Anna's lips form a tight line and her brows furrow as she fought to form the correct words.

"Is he really a Desian, Altair?"

"I dunno. Does it matter? He hasn't exactly done anything Desian-like, has he?" The boy pushed himself off his sister's bed, heading for the door. He flashed her a reassuring smile, and she returned it, but it did not meet her eyes.

That night, the youths met for the first time in several days. Considering their original location had been compromised by a Desian Architect/spy, they opted to meet at their leader's forge instead. Gage leaned against the door with his arms crossed, observing the children seated in a circle on the floor. The older children lounged near tables and chairs, on which many incomplete weapons were strewn, but the youngest scooted quickly away from the sharp objects and formed a tight circle by the forge's fires.

As summer slowly turned to fall, the nights grew colder, and the children greatly appreciated the heat the fire generated.

This meeting would be one of the last before the start of school. It would also set in motion a series of events that would eventually result in the merging of two worlds. But that's another, better known story.

Gage began with a summary of the Desian-related incident since their last meeting, which was surprisingly minimal considering the construction of that new ranch. He also mentioned that the Asgard merchant caravan would be arriving tonight to set up shop tomorrow, and several children whooped. The caravan always held many objects that fascinated and occupied the children for several weeks.

They sparred for an hour or two as usual, ending with an epic battle between the Garris siblings. Altair held his ground exceedingly well, and everyone was so entertained by the spectacle that they didn't notice any of the events occurring outside.

If they had been more alert, they would've seen the Asgard merchant Caravan approaching, which was normally a cause for excitement, but only for the children. However, the caravan was approaching at an alarming speed, and so even the adults peered out of their windows to see it. The merchants were running, practically sprinting, toward the town frantically.

People started to cautiously leave the safety of their front porches, pausing only to yell at their children to stay in the house, all of them looking at the arriving caravan in confusion and growing fear.

Anna and Altair's fight grew in intensity as they became even more absorbed in their determination to best the other, swords clashing loudly with every parry, block, and thrust until finally their weapons collided with a deafening bang that shook the very ground beneath them, the children gathered around them jumping in surprise-

…Or was that bang the product of the Asgard caravan hurriedly rolling into the lake town as one of their carts exploded in a bright shower of green sparks?

It was, in fact, the latter, but not for the reason one would think. No bomb of superior technology had gone off- just a stupid merchant accidentally setting fire to his wares, which consisted of a lot of copper.

However, considering their rather peculiar arrival, the residents of Luin began to panic at the sight of a cart exploding. Some of the merchants began approaching the people, yelling unintelligible phrases and waving their arms.

Realization slowly dawned on the youths as Altair and Anna blinked at each other, shocked at the noise their weapons had apparently caused. And then Gage opened the door an inch.

"What is it, Gage?" the barkeep's son inquire, his arms wrapped around his blonde girlfriend.

"The Asgard caravan is here…" he began, brows furrowing as his brain tried to comprehend what he was seeing.

A chorus of cheers could be heard, that is, until the innkeeper's son spoke again.

"…and it's on fire."

**A/N: Is it sad that the mental image of this made me laugh like a madwoman? …yes, it is.**


	8. When Life Gives You an Army of Lemons

**A/N: I still live, really. I completely lost my inspiration for this for a while…and then I finished Anna Karenina and a tsunami of musings flooded my poor brain…**

**Well, this is the first of several timely installments, I swear. Love you all!**

**General Disclaimer: Anna is mine! And that means Kratos is by association! … okay, so I suck at lying. But her personality is all my idea! Does that count? … no, it doesn't.**

**Gaelras, a Tales of Symphonia Story**

**Chapter Eight: When Life Gives You an Army of Evil Lemons…**

As any who have attempted such a feat know, squeezing twenty or thirty heads through a standard eight-by-three foot door is rather difficult and potentially dangerous to all parties involved. If their parents hadn't been running around with buckets of water, trying to put out a fire started by a carelessly thrown lantern, they would have yelled at the children to go home and stay in their rooms.

However, everyone was preoccupied with the instantaneous panic associated with the previous events, and so, no one stopped the youths from peeking out the doorway.

The stared openly as the adults doused the fire, youngest lying on their bellies and kneeling, eldest resting their chins on the heads of those below them. It may have been uncomfortable for anyone with a lack of curiosity, but none of these children could be said to have such. They were entranced by the scene before them.

As Eric and Lira Garris, among many others, busied themselves running back and forth between the fountain and the flaming cart, the Asgard merchants were surrounded by anxious townspeople, whispering worriedly to each other. The merchants were covered in dirt and grime, and their eyes conveyed something dark and depressing, of sorrow and fear.

From their position in the Garris forge, the children could hear only the sounds that carried above the crackle of the fire, mainly, a chorus of shouts for more water. Anna pursed her lips in exasperation; she wanted to know what had happened! She gently nudged the young ones kneeling below her, their bodies scooting across the floor to make room for her instinctively, a subconscious testament to their loyalty for her. In a graceful, swift movement, the teen stepped between them and through the doorway.

Altair and Gage followed as closely behind as possible, but as the youngest had already returned to their original positions, it was difficult to maneuver through them and Anna was far ahead of them by the time they managed to push through. They found her amongst the large group of townspeople congregated around the more lucid of the merchants, who were in the middle of describing some cataclysmic event in great detail. They looked weary but urgent, waving their arms erratically, obviously panicked.

The boys stopped at Anna's side and noticed the grim expression painted on her face as a man, one of the calmer of the merchants, relayed the tale.

"We were just south of Lake Umacy when they came, a mass of black and red. It was their helmets that caught our eyes, you know how those metal things shine in the sun and all, so we camped out at the lake. A couple of us went back to Asgard to see what was going on."

"They destroyed everything, even the walkways between the cliffs. It looked deserted, except for the stone dias, so we snuck up there and found all the women and children tied up on the altar. There was some high ranking Desian looking them over, like they were cattle, and he pulled four or five out of the group, three young women and two children."

Someone in the crowd raised his voice, which cracked audibly, "And the men?"

"Dead." A merchant replied. His face was stone, pale and lifeless. "They were piled in the caves. My brother among them." His wife burst into sobs.

Croaking as if he'd lost his voice recently, another merchant said, "They took my son." The calm merchant rested a hand on his back, and the man lapsed into a depressed silence.

"We waited until they left, then carried the wounded to the caravan." He gestured to the largest cart, where Luin's priests were already tending to the injured. "There's a smaller group headed north. They're moving pretty slowly, and my guess is they'll make it here by tomorrow night, Hima by the next day."

Later, if she was feeling particularly articulate, Anna would say it was as if a dam made of pure tension had collapsed and set a river of panic free through the town. But at that moment, all she could think was, _the Desians are going to attack!_

The crowd of townspeople dissipated exceedingly quickly as parents rushed home in search of their children, to confirm that something hadn't kidnapped them in the five minute space they'd been gone, only to find that their children were indeed missing. Anna, her brother, and Gage sprinted back to the forge and told everyone what was happening and that they should go home.

Every child, from age nineteen to five, politely refused.

"Excuse me, Anna," the tavern master's son murmured, "but haven't we been training together for months just to be ready for something like this?"

"And we've been thinking up good strategies for ages now!" A ten year old added, rocking back and forth on his heels.

The seamstress's daughter recalled one of those strategies, "Cut off the head first, right? Take out the Grand Cardinals first, then the Sergeants, and finally, the masses of soldiers running around chaotically without orders. That's what you said, Anna."

"Well, yes, but," Anna stuttered, backed against the wall by a hoard of youths, "those strategies require a massive amount of manpower from our side, and we're just kids-"

"Just kids?!" Someone shrieked. Altair, chuckling at his sister's expense, decided a little interference was necessary and he stepped between the children and their leader.

"I think what Anna's trying to say, is that if we want to pull this off, we'll need some help. Right, sis?"

"But-"

"With your charisma," Gage said, smirking, "we'll have no trouble coercing the entire town into joining the cause!"

"What, exactly, are we planning here?!" Anna cried.

They began yelling all at once:

"Why, a revolution, of course!"

"Time to eradicate the Desians!"

"Decimate them!"

"Describe them!"

"…I think you meant 'destroy'. As in, destroy them!"

"I knew that!"

Anna looked at her friends, excitedly chatting about the imminent battle, and sighed. What was she getting them into?

Eric Garris was extremely surprised when, half past eleven at night, every parent in Luin showed up at his door, demanding him to release their children. He was almost choked to death by the tavern master, who seemed more entertained by killing him than finding out where his son was. Luckily, Lira Garris kept her head.

"They're at the forge, with our children." She said steadily.

Assuming there were twenty to thirty children with the Garris family, and each had both their parents present, forty to sixty men and women now stormed across the yard to the forge. Their children could feel their doom approaching.

When said parents burst into the forge a few minutes later, they were met by the calm, composed faces of children who had made an irreversible decision. Most were stunned by the mature looks their children gave them, except for Jordan Yaxley, who was never known for his perception.

The innkeeper towered over his son, a fierce, demanding look in his eyes. "We're going home, Gage. You will pack your things and be ready to leave in the morning."

"You're abandoning Luin?" Gage replied.

"We are moving to Palmacosta."

"You are moving to Palmacosta. I am staying here, to defend my home."

"Gage…" Jordan growled, a warning in his tone. His son did not flinch.

"Will you join me? Or will you run?"

"You'll die."

"So will you, eventually."

Jordan Yaxley growled again at his stubborn son, cursed, and stomped out of the forge.

The multitude of bodies watching them suddenly remembered why they had come in the first place, and parent and child began arguing. Child argued that they needed to protect their homes, parent reasoned that they needed to protect themselves.

Eric immediately offered his help to the cause, but Lira was less willing. She would not bend, even to her daughter, and turned back to their home, where she took up her knitting and wept.

Anna saw rifts forming between families and felt guilt claw at her heart. Her need to fight the cursed Desians had infected her friends and caused all of this, and she hated the pride that welled up in her soul. She saw before her two choices: send these people she had grown up with to their deaths or run with them to a new home. Her foolish, courageous nature warred with her compassion.

Oddly, it was her younger brother who provided the answer. His voice, normally so quiet and analytical, rose above the shouts of the opposing families.

"Hey! Listen! Do you want to see your families ripped apart by the Desians? You don't do you? Look at what's happening to you- you're letting your fear of them control you, destroy your families. We're staying; we've already decided that. Most of us are old enough to make that decision, and the younger ones are mature for their ages. Now the only thing to decide is whether you'll allow the Desians to tear you apart or fight it."

He trailed off, realizing what everyone else had known since he began speaking: his words were the most he had ever said in front of so many people, and he felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment. Anna sensed this and sealed her fate.

"My brother's right. Your fear of the Desians is destroying your families, your relationships. When they come, the Desians might kill all of us. Which would you rather have? A divided family, never knowing whether your children survived or not, or a united family, fighting to release the oppression of those that would destroy it. Your choice. We've made ours."

If Anna had been some unknown child from some city far to the south, they wouldn't have paid her any mind. But Anna was an eighteen year old they'd watched grow from a cute little girl with twin swords to a young woman with strong convictions and the good of everyone else thought of before her own. They respected her for her beauty, her intelligence, her forging skills, her swordsmanship, and her deep love for all things. But their pride would never allow them to admit this, and so they stood in stunned silence instead of cheering as they so wished to do.

However, the children had no such prejudice toward the young, and they leapt to their feet in joy, cheering.

Many of the adults conceded immediately after her impassioned speech, and after their children's pleas many others joined as well. Those who still refused visited Lira Garris for a while, then returned to their cold, empty homes.

Anna beamed at her success, her forming guilt squashed by the newfound respect she had for her friends and their parents. She glanced over each family, memorizing their features and expressions, until she landed on a shadowed figure in the corner, his arms crossed.

She had to carefully edge between the chatting families, few of which actually fit in the Garris forge in the first place, in order to reach him. And when she finally did, he simply raised his red tinted eyes to hers languidly, in a very nonchalant manner.

Anna ignored his indifference and placed her hands on her hips, head tilted at an angle, saying, "You probably shouldn't be here, you know. Gage might think you're gathering info for your superiors. Or do you want to help, too?"

"Perhaps I am. What would you do, then? Take me prisoner, or kill me?" Kratos' face its usual stone mask, the girl couldn't tell whether he was teasing her or being completely serious. She hoped for the former.

"Of all the Desians," she stated firmly, "spies are the worst. They gain your trust and then betray it. Such acts will be met with nothing but the harshest of punishments."

"Is that a threat?" his lips twitched, and Anna felt a twinge of annoyance at the thought that he believed her incapable of such a thing.

"No. Just my opinion."

It was at that moment that Gage Yaxley finally found his crush talking with what he now called his sworn enemy. Luckily, Eric had also spotted his daughter, and they approached her at the same time.

Gage stepped between the auburn haired man and Anna, choosing to ignore her huff of exasperation. He spoke with an even, low voice, "What do you think you're doing here?"

Eric rested his hands on the shoulders of his daughter, and she looked up at him pleadingly. Why, he didn't know. "You have a problem with this man, Gage?"

"Yes! He's a Desian spy! He'll tell them what we're planning!"

The accused was silent, his eyes showing only the slightest traces of emotion, the only proof that the boy's words were even heard, let alone that they affected him.

"What in Martel's name gave you that idea?" Eric asked. He found the accusation ridiculous.

"We overheard him talking to his superiors in the chapel!"

The sword smith cocked an eyebrow, "You mean he was praying in the chapel? What's so odd about that?"

"No! He was saying he hadn't talked to them for a while, and that his plans would be finished soon, and he'd be back once 'the operation was underway.'"

"I don't see how praying makes him a Desian, Gage."

The boy spluttered incoherently, looking from Anna's livid expression to her father's confused face to Kratos, who appeared genuinely annoyed. And he finally realized he'd just admitted to eavesdropping on a Desian spy, who was probably quite good with that sword of his. Lapsing into silence, Gage dropped his eyes to the floor and felt a blush creep up his face.

Eric studied the man before him for a moment, from the sword at his side to the clothes he wore, and the annoyed expression that mirrored his daughter's. He recalled Jordan telling him about a mercenary staying at his inn, and how cold and detached the man seemed.

"You are a mercenary, correct?" he asked, releasing his daughter's shoulders.

He could tell the man knew where he was headed with his question, and the hesitance in the mercenary's reply confirmed that he wasn't happy with it.

"…Yes."

"We need all the help we can get for what's ahead. You'll be paid as much as we can pay you, which probably isn't as high as you're used to." The sword smith said all this with a continuous sigh, as if he thought the attempt futile. He watched the mercenary carefully, noting how he seemed to be thinking every option through. He almost missed the split second where his auburn eyes flicked quickly from his own to his daughter's. And Eric Garris felt a tiny smile grace his rough features; he knew the man's answer. Thank Martel for Anna's charisma.

"You realize that, even if you somehow defeat the little group headed here now, the Desians will send the whole of their army here. You are no match for that."

"We can win! I know we can!" Anna cried. Her statement, head by the surrounding townspeople, started up a loud cheer for the prosperity of Luin and her children.

"If you are so intent on throwing your lives away, I suppose I must lend my assistance." The mercenary said, and he added quickly, "I expect no payment until after the battle. Consider it paid if we lose."

Eric chuckled. "I will."

"But we won't lose!" Anna cried again, a loud cheer echoing her.

Considering the lack of space in the Garris forge, the self-proclaimed soldiers of Luin moved to a better location for formulating their plans: the weapon shop. A place the children had dreamed of using as a base since they started their little meetings. Two stories of every war strategist's dreams.

"We'll send the women and children to Hima. They'll tell everyone what's happening and then they can backtrack through the mountains to Palmacosta."

"But it's the women and children they're after, right? I mean, all they did in Asgard was take the women and some of the kids. If they don't get what they want after we're through with them, they'll keep looking."

"Yeah, but we'll decimate any group that marches north. They'll have plenty of time to find a safe place to lay low for a while. The real problem will start when the other ranches find out what's going on."

"Do you even know how many Desians are coming?" Kratos' voice, laced with disbelieving annoyance, effectively halted any forming plans. It was with a slightly nervous wave that the calm merchant offered his information.

"It's a small group. They don't expect to encounter any resistance from a little town like this, or from Hima either. I'd say a hundred and seventy at the most, only a couple mages. Mostly newer soldiers. They couldn't stay in formation, kept knocking each other out of line and-"

"One hundred plus. And we have…?" the mercenary asked, perpetual frown growing on his chiseled face.

When Anna, her father, and several others started looking around, counting heads, Kratos sighed; what hope did a tiny group of inexperienced, backwater townspeople have against a four millennia year old organization bent on the destruction of anyone opposing its will?

"Thirty-three." Eric stated very matter-of-factly, just as Altair and Gage simultaneously shouted, "Thirty-two!" and "Thirty-five!"

Kratos really, really wanted to smack himself on the forehead and hopefully knock himself out, ending this torture. However, Anna supplied a better alternative by smacking her brother and friend on their foreheads. Problem solved.

"Thirty-seven, actually, not counting the younger ones who probably shouldn't be here." She said, gesturing to a corner of the building where several boxes of shields were stacked. The boxes wiggled animatedly and revealed an unstable pyramid of children who giggled and ran over to their parents, at which point they were sent home with stern glances and whispered reproaches.

"We're outnumbered 4 to 1. I assume a frontal assault is out of the question?" The hesitant nods Kratos received in reply made him wonder if they even knew what a frontal assault was, let alone how it differed from other strategies.

They had no chance. And the thought forced a long forgotten emotion, something akin to fear, to well up in Kratos' heart.

**A/N: Can anyone guess the title for the next chapter? And those poor Luinians. I wonder if they'll make it? And shouldn't I know the answer to that question? Leaves you little hope for my sanity, it does.**


	9. And the Generals are Annoying

**A/N: Okay, well, I finished this yesterday, and though I wanted to post a longer chapter, it wouldn't have worked with what's to come. Oh, and if you hate me for my lack of characterization on Kratos' part, it's coming too. Just be patient, my friends!**

**Disclaimer: (twice in a row! My memory lives!) If I owned them, they'd both be alive. And Anna would be worse than Rain at 'disciplining' Lloyd.**

**Gaelras, A Tales of Symphonia Story**

**Chapter Nine: …And the Generals are Annoying with Pointy Ears…**

Considering the lack of space in the Garris forge, the self-proclaimed soldiers of Luin moved to a better location for formulating their plans: the weapon shop. A place the children had dreamed of using as a base since they started their little meetings. Two stories of every war strategist's dreams.

"We'll send the women and children to Hima. They'll tell everyone what's happening and then they can backtrack through the mountains to Palmacosta."

"But it's the women and children they're after, right? I mean, all they did in Asgard was take the women and some of the kids. If they don't get what they want after we're through with them, they'll keep looking."

"Yeah, but we'll decimate any group that marches north. They'll have plenty of time to find a safe place to lay low for a while. The real problem will start when the other ranches find out what's going on."

"Do you even know how many Desians are coming?" Kratos' voice, laced with disbelieving annoyance, effectively halted any forming plans. It was with a slightly nervous wave that the calm merchant offered his information.

"It's a small group. They don't expect to encounter any resistance from a little town like this, or from Hima either. I'd say a hundred and seventy at the most, only a couple mages. Mostly newer soldiers. They couldn't stay in formation, kept knocking each other out of line and-"

"One hundred plus. And we have…?" the mercenary asked, perpetual frown growing on his chiseled face.

When Anna, her father, and several others started looking around, counting heads, Kratos sighed; what hope did a tiny group of inexperienced, backwater townspeople have against a four millennia year old organization bent on the destruction of anyone opposing its will?

"Thirty-three." Eric stated very matter-of-factly, just as Altair and Gage simultaneously shouted, "Thirty-two!" and "Thirty-five!"

Kratos really, really wanted to smack himself on the forehead and hopefully knock himself out, ending this torture. However, Anna supplied a better alternative by smacking her brother and friend on their foreheads. Problem solved.

"Thirty-seven, actually, not counting the younger ones who probably shouldn't be here." She said, gesturing to a corner of the building where several boxes of shields were stacked. The boxes wiggled animatedly and revealed an unstable pyramid of children who giggled and ran over to their parents, at which point they were sent home with stern glances and whispered reproaches.

"We're outnumbered 4 to 1. I assume a frontal assault is out of the question?" The hesitant nods Kratos received in reply made him wonder if they even knew what a frontal assault was, let alone how it differed from other strategies.

They had no chance. And the thought forced a long forgotten emotion, something akin to fear, to well up in Kratos' heart.

The sun had just begun to rise when the townspeople exited the weapon shop, their battle plan at the forefront of their minds. Fathers and mothers returned to their homes and drilled their children in their part of the plan, making sure it was memorized forwards, backwards, and upside down just in case something went wrong. Teens returned to angry parents and argued for hours for the right to fight for their home.

Unable to see his father without giving the stubborn man a good right hook, Gage accompanied the Garris family to their nearby home. He was cross with his father, and with the auburn haired man accompanying them as well, for he had wanted a chance to have some time with the Garris siblings without the interference of some stupid mercenary that seemed a little too over protective of Anna.

But then, that was another matter entirely. Gage had watched as Kratos pulled Anna to a more secluded corner of the shop once the plans were complete, where he proceeded to have the nerve to tell her to leave with the other women and children.

Consequently, Anna was no longer speaking to the man, who seemed to be sulking under his emotionless mask, if the lack of luster in his hair had anything to do with it.

Upon entering their home, they found Lira Garris mending her children's torn trousers. She did not meet their eyes as they approached, the slight tremor in her hands the only indication of anger or fear.

The room was silent for several agonizing minutes, Gage and Kratos respectfully keeping their distance, Eric rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Altair suppressing yawns, and Anna huffing indignantly at the silence.

"Anna-Banana, why don't you and Altair show our guests around?" Eric stated rather firmly, and Altair pulled Anna's arm forcefully. Her deep jade eyes would not leave the form of her mother until they'd already left the room. If he hadn't been wise enough to keep his mouth shut, Altair would've teased her about her lack of protest at her despised nick-name.

They could hear raised voices, but Altair acted as if nothing was unusual and led a mini-tour of their a-little-too-small-to-be-called-cozy home. It was decided that, as it would be several hours before the Desians reached Luin (about twelve hours, fifteen minutes, if they were traveling at the average speed for a Desian army, not that Kratos was keeping track), they should all get some rest before starting the preparations.

Gage bunked with Altair, and Kratos took the guest room, which was more of a large closet than a room. Anna's room was just across the hall from him, and from the crack in her door she could see his auburn spikes on the dusty cot.

How dare he suggest that she leave with the women and children, and not fight for her home! He had no right; he hadn't known the pain the people of Luin lived with after the massacre over two decades ago.

She had an impassioned desire to jump out of bed and thwack him on the head a couple of times. But that would count as acknowledging his existence, and she was even more determined not to do that, so Anna folded her arms and begged sleep to come to her.

However, sleep never comes to the troubled without an immense amount of patience, and Anna was an impatient teenager.

She was also stubborn, and kept her eyes closed for the very reason that she would not give in to her own impatience. She forced her muscles to relax, evened her breathing, settled into her pillows, pushed back a stray strand of brown hair…

And she barely heard the squeak of the cot as substantial weight was lifted from it, or the protest of the floorboards near her door, or the light, shrill sound of her door opening. Her eyes remained closed, her breathing slow and even, her muscles truly relaxed, and Anna found herself falling into sleep.

Leaning on the door frame, Kratos felt the tiniest of smiles grace his face.

Gage, unable to think of anything but his idiot of a father and the approaching fight, found himself padding cautiously across Altair's room to the door, his many sleepovers at the house aiding him in avoiding squeaky floorboards. The youngest Garris slept peacefully, a feat Gage marveled at. Perhaps he felt safe knowing his family would be near, or maybe he didn't truly understand the situation.

Either way, he was asleep and Gage was not.

The innkeeper's son tiptoed past the living room, where Eric and Lira had apparently settled their differences and were chatting quietly. He had almost made it to Anna's bedroom before a trusty floorboard betrayed him, screaming its protest to his weight. Gage grimaced, hoping he hadn't awoken the girl.

He noticed Kratos first, peeking out of the guest room as if he'd been awakened by a parade of elephants crashing past his room. The floorboard wasn't _that_ loud. Gage expressed his distaste with the mercenary by ignoring him. Childish, yes, but very Anna-esque.

Next, the boy turned to Anna's door, which she always kept open just a crack… and it was wide open. Generally, the sight of an open door was of no consequence, but Anna had some rather odd habits, and the closing of her door with just a sliver of light showing was one of them. She could never sleep well otherwise.

Apparently, this was due to an event in her past when she'd almost been killed by a Desian and some mercenary had saved her. This mysterious mercenary also influenced her choice of weapon.

Gage remembered Anna telling him the story as she'd recalled it from her parents; the mercenary had stayed for dinner, and when she got tired, he tucked her into bed for the night. She said she remembered him humming a song for her, a tune she regularly sand to herself while working in the forge.

Anna also mentioned that she awoke just before he left town, peeking through the crack he'd left in her door. Since that time, she always left the door that way. It was her way of honoring the memory of the man she could no longer put a face to.

Therefore, the sight of her open door was disturbing to Gage, especially with the presence of another mercenary across the hall (Gage figured that this mercenary's morals were most likely lacking compared to the one that had saved Anna as a small child). He abandoned his newfound policy of ignoring the man, preferring to glare at him in a way that openly revealed his true feelings for the violet clad mercenary. Purple was for girls, anyway.

Kratos raised an eyebrow, saying languidly, and surprisingly quietly, "You couldn't sleep?"

The innkeeper's son took a long look at the slumbering teen behind him, and he shut her door, leaving that tiny crack of light peeking through. "I'm surprised anyone can." He replied steadily, tone laced with restrained malice.

"Inability to sleep stems from conflicting emotions. Those who can rest at a time of great tension and fear are either fools, and extremely courageous." The mercenary sounded like a walking textbook, his voice flat, his eyes watching the door across the hall.

"Well, Anna's not a fool."

"No, she isn't."

…did they just agree on something?

Kratos finally managed to tear his auburn eyes from the door, landing squarely on Gage. The boy found himself scrutinized by those eyes, before the man asked quietly, "Your preferred weapon is the short sword, correct?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Have you had any formal training?"

"…no."

The mercenary retreated into the oversized closet, returning quickly with his belt and scabbard. "Com on, then. Bring that short sword of yours." Dazed from fatigue and confusion, Gage did as he was bid, belatedly realizing that this would be a great opportunity to humiliate the man with his superior swordsmanship.

…or not. The first time, he went down with the first strike. The second, he was introduced to the dirt at Kratos' feet. The third, he was knocked out for several minutes. The fourth, he got a whole parry in before he was forced to retreat.

Okay, so he'd never be as good as Anna, or this mercenary. But so what? The Desians weren't that good, either, they just fought dirty.

However, after two and a half hours of this agonizing torture, Gage had learned a proper parry, block, and even a special defense technique he'd never heard of before. His offense was no longer lacking as terribly, either.

The boy felt a grin split his face despite his heavy, labored breathing. It was amazing how Gage was learning more with this man in two hours than he had in seven years with his father. In fact, if he ignored the jealousy (yes, he was willing to admit that now) simmering in his blood, he could almost _respect_ the guy.

Why hadn't he liked him in the first place? There was the suspicious chapel incident, but some people did have rather odd ways of praying, so that was probably nothing. But what about that strange vehicle he had stored in a cave in the forest? Though, he'd never seen a Desian riding one of them, and it could just be some new technology from Palmacosta. Gage had to admit that most of his issues with Kratos stemmed from jealousy over the way he looked at Anna, and how she looked at him.

…so why was he defending the man now?

He answered his own question as he stumbled through an offensive technique and received a light scolding. He defended him because he now saw what Anna had known all along- that underneath his gruff exterior, there lay a man with a heart like any other. And it took a sparring match to show him that.

"You two seem to be enjoying yourselves." A light, amused voice alerted the sparring partners to their spectators. Gage reddened a little at the sight of Anna, her arms crossed and an amused expression on her face, her father and brother at her sides.

"Kratos was just showing me some new techniques." He said, running a sweaty hand through his hair with one eye closed, as was his habit, "He's not so bad."

"Really?" Altair had his mouth open incredulously, but the mirth in his eyes told his friend that he was teasing. Gage vaguely registered the hunched form of Lira Garris in the window, her face downcast, before he felt a strong hand take hold of his shoulder.

Kratos loomed over him from behind, no trace of his normal annoyance on his face, "You've improved greatly."

Anna, sensing the perfect timing for a challenge, pulled her swords, Gaelras and a Broadsword, from their respective scabbards and got into an offensive stance. "You think you're a match for me, now?"

"Yep."

The rest of their time before the preparations was filled with the sounds of metal clashing against metal, of Kratos' gentle corrections, and Eric's cheering. Anna recalled a training session long ago with her brother and man she couldn't recall, and the nostalgia brought a smile to her face.

**A/N: Sorry the final part of the title hasn't been revealed yet, it'll come when the battle begins! Go Gage for learning a little! He's my favorite character! Well, of the ones I created, anyway. Kratos is my real favorite. Oh, I'm still taking guesses, and sorry, crystalwolfberri, but you were close!**


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